


Lucy and the Looking Glass

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-22
Updated: 2005-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1629344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a very unusual book in a very unusual libray, there is a tale of Queen Lucy the Valiant and an unexpected guest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucy and the Looking Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Written for vongroovy

 

 

In the Library of the Dreaming there exists every book that was ever dreamed by every being who dreams. Danny was a page there, one of the many who assisted the Librarian with his tasks. This evening, Danny was nearly out of things to do. All had been shelved and straightened, and only one reader remained, browsing through a stack of books at a long table. Danny went to Master Lucien's office to ask what task he might take on next, but the master's door was closed. Through the glass pane in it, Danny could see that he was in a deep discussion with an orangutan, and Danny did not want to disturb them. Instead, he wandered around a bit, looking for a way to be useful. Perhaps he ought to dust the Mystery section, he thought, but it was on a shadowy aisle and going there always made Danny slightly nervous. Just then, though, he was saved from that task when the sole reader, an old man with a long white beard and half-moon spectacles, rose from his chair, winked at Danny, then disappeared with a faint _pop_.

Danny approached the table to gather the great pile of books; they would take a long time to reshelve. As he began to stack them into neat piles, he noticed with surprise that instead of the tomes of sorcery and alchemy he would have expected (for Danny had decided that the reader must be a wizard with his long robes and long beard), each and every book, to the very last, was a story book. This was so odd that Danny felt the desire to investigate. He knew he would be scolded if Master Lucien saw him shirking too much, but with a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw that the man and orangutan were still deep in discussion. Danny sat in the big chair where the wizard had been (it was still warm, which Danny thought made it more comfortable) and picked up the nearest book. It was bound in somewhat worn black leather, and the cover read, _The Strange Case of Two Boats on the Thames, by A. Conan Doyle_. Danny opened it up to a random page, then set it aside hastily; it was one of those mystery books he did not like. Another book, this one with a shiny white jacket, had a funny line drawing on the cover. _Where the Sidewalk Begins,_ it was called, but Danny set it down too upon finding it was poetry. The next book looked more promising, tall and bound in deep purple leather. On the cover, stamped in gold script, were the words:

Forgotten Tales of Narnia's Golden Age

by Clive Staples Lewis

The book was so lovely that Danny felt he had to look in it. When he did, he drew in a breath upon seeing the frontispiece. It was a richly illuminated page, the illustration bordered by a vine painted in gold. Birds, flowers, and small creatures were painted amongst the leaves, and at the very top was the head of a lion, so real that Danny was half sure it would open its jaws and roar. The main picture was of four people, two men and two women; they were all dressed in very fancy old-fashioned clothes and sitting around a table, laughing and talking. Danny felt that if he leaned closer to the page he would actually be able to hear their conversation.

This he thought, was a book worth reading. Such a book would certainly have tales of adventure and dragons and other such things a young boy like himself would enjoy. Greedily, without even turning to look at the Table of Contents, Danny opened the book to a page about halfway through. A new story began on that page. It was called:

Lucy and the Looking Glass

Danny was not quite sure about a tale of a girl and a mirror, but if it were an enchanted mirror- and a book like this probably would have an enchanted mirror- then the story might be good. He began to read, and this was the story:

***

Lucy, called the Valiant, Brave and Lovely Queen of Narnia, was not presently feeling valiant at all. She was puzzled, and not by great and solemn affairs of state as one might expect, but over a piece of furniture. Now, those who know the story of how Lucy and her brothers and sister came to Narnia might think that she had good cause to fret over a piece of furniture. This, however, was no strange forgotten piece brought up from a back room. It was a newly carved, wooden-framed floor mirror, and it came from the shop of a well-known and respected craftsman. (Perhaps to be perfectly fair, it should be mentioned that the woodworker's son later did not become a master craftsman himself, but a respected magician, but no one knew this at the time.)

Lucy paced the marble floors of her bedroom and stopped every few moments to look at the mirror, her head tilted to one side. Yes, she thought, the new mirror did make her feel a bit queer while looking at it. She tilted her head the other direction, squinted, and looked again. The mirror's appearance was not extraordinary in any way. It was oval, carved of a blond wood with no ornamentation. It had been a gift from a grateful subject whose young daughter had been cured of a dangerous fever with a drop of Lucy's cordial.

No, she told herself, it was quite a normal mirror and she should not feel at all odd having it in the room. She was glad that her brothers were off hunting and Susan was in a neighbouring town for an official visit, because if they had been around , Lucy felt sure that she would have told them, and might have been teased a little.

The thought that she might deserve to be teased a little for being afraid of a mirror made her square her shoulders and look sternly at her reflection in it. "Don't be a silly goose," she said firmly. "There is nothing odd about this. Mirror?"

She faltered at the last word, because as she said it, a rather odd thing did happen. Just beyond her reflection's right shoulder, the Real Lucy's left shoulder, there was a brief flash, like when a stray sunbeam on a grey day strikes a piece of polished metal. Lucy turned around to see what, or whom, was in her room, but there was no one there. She turned back and her jaw dropped open in surprise.

Standing where her reflection should be was a fair-haired young man who looked to be about her own age. He was standing in a garden, and the day behind him looked warm and sunny. He wore a simple tunic and hose, but there was a thin gold circlet around his head. He smiled and raised his hand in greeting.

Most young women might well have fainted dead away at such a shock, but Lucy regained her composure quite admirably. The young man looked friendly, and she smiled back at him.

"Hullo," he said, although she saw him speak more than heard his voice, which sounded very faint.

"Hello," Lucy replied, careful to enunciate clearly. She raised her hand to touch the glass. As her fingertips brushed the mirror's surface, it felt _warm_ and strangly soft. It was as if she was touching not glass, but his own hand- which, in fact, she was.

Surprised, she stepped back, but he was holding on to her hand, and he stumbled out of the mirror, nearly knocking them both over. Each of them gasped, took a moment to regain their balance, and then stood looking at one another.

"Hullo," he said again, smiling. Then he looked about the room, and realising that he was in the chambers of a young woman, he dropped to one knee and lowered his gaze. "I beg your pardon, Lady. I did not intend..." he faltered, blushing.

Lucy could not help but laugh. This handsome boy certainly did not in any way seem to be a threat, and he was obviously very concerned with what he apparently thought was horrid manners; though, as Lucy was aware, people who did things like tumble through enchanted furniture were probably not intending to do so. "It's quite all right," she said, smiling down at him, "I'm sure you meant no harm. Are you quite well? I think we have both had a bit of a shock."

As she spoke, he raised his head to look at her and his eyes widened, a very curious expression on his face.

"Lucy?" the boy said, in an uncertain voice.

"Yes," she said, a little suspiciously. "But how did you know?"

"By the Lion's Mane, it _is_ you!" he exclaimed, and stood up to clasp her hand between his. "Lucy, I do not know what matter of magic this is, but I am Caspian, tenth of that name, King of Narnia, and we have met before when your sister and brothers and the Great Aslan himself aided me in overthrowing my wicked uncle Miraz."

His face shone with such excitement that Lucy could hardly bear to believe that he was mad. She looked at him more closely; his face was flushed, but his eyes were focused and clear. This was no madman, despite his bizarre claims. Lucy made her voice steady as she asked, "But how can this be? I am sure that we have not met, and as for being king, that cannot be so either. There are two Kings of Narnia, my-"

"Brothers, Peter and Edmund," Caspian finished for her.

"You know them," Lucy said, beginning to believe.

"Aye, lady, just as I know you." He gave her a dazzling smile, and Lucy felt a flutter in her chest.

For a few moments they just stood and looked at one another, his hands still clasping hers. She felt her own face begin to flush, and stared down at their joined hands. She found that she very much she did not wish him to let go. They could not stay like that forever, though, so she searched for something sensible to say so he would not think her odd.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, "I could call to the kitchens and have them bring up something to eat. Then you can tell me how you came to be in my mirror."

I am a bit hungry," Caspian replied, "but perhaps the servants would be a bit distressed to see Her Majesty walking the halls with a strange man." This was very sensible of Caspian to suggest. Although Lucy found his story believable - and likely others would as well-- Caspian knew a great fuss would be made and he was not terribly inclined to have a great fuss made over him.

"I'll just go down myself then and prepare a tray, and bring it up for us." Lucy recognised the wisdom of his suggestion, and she did just that.

When she returned, Caspian was standing at a window, looking out upon the rolling hills.

"It's definitely Narnia," he said in wonder, "but so different!"

Lucy smiled over at him as she placed the tray on a low table. She sat down on a long chaise and motioned for him to join her. "Please, tell me how you came here, and at least a little of how we know each other from before."

He joined her on the couch, close enough for conversation, but decently far away, as he was well versed in Courtly Manners and conscious that he must not sit improperly close. (Truth be told, each of them did wish to have the other closer, but such are the mores of Narnia.) He began to speak, telling her of how he was out walking in his gardens, getting his fill of flowers, as he was shortly to embark on a sea journey and would not be on land for a very long time. He had been gazing into a pool, and something had caught his eye, much as Lucy had seen something in her mirror. He had knelt to get a closer look, reached out, then found himself in Lucy's room.

"How strange," Lucy interrupted. "Has this happened before?"

"Not that I have heard. And your mirror?"

"Newly carved from a perfectly ordinary wood," she answered.

"It's a mystery, then. But I admit I am glad of it. It's so marvellous to see you." He looked at her and swallowed, and it seemed to Lucy that he was a bit embarrassed about something. "And you're all grown up." Caspian gave her a shy smile.

"Grown up? I'll be sixteen in a few months, so I'm hardly that old. Do you mean, then, that I was some other age when we last saw one another?"

"Yes, no older than eleven or twelve, I'd wager. Although I do recall that you were very brave for such a young girl." He then told Lucy about the battle against Miraz, the feats of the Kings and Queens who came to his aid, and of course, the appearance of Aslan.

While he was speaking, Lucy leaned in to hear more, the way one does when someone is telling you something so exciting that you do not want to miss a single word. Caspian was doing likewise, as one does when one is saying something very important and wants to make sure nothing is missed. Thus when he was finished with his story, Lucy and Caspian were almost nose to nose. Caspian realised first that the situation was Not Terribly Proper and did the thing a sixteen year old boy does in that situation, no matter how Courtly his Manners are. He kissed her.

Lucy responded instantly, enjoying the warm feel of his lips on hers, the warm, clean smell of his skin, and then the delicious weight of his hand as he placed it on her shoulder. The kiss seemed to last forever, but when he drew back, she felt that it had not taken nearly long enough.

"T-that was very forward of me," he stammered, "I'm sorr--" but Lucy cut off his response by wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him again.

After that kiss, there were no other attempted apologies.

Lucy and Caspian spent the rest of that afternoon talking (getting to know one another better from Lucy's perspective, and catching up from Caspian's) and kissing, although there are no further details because this is not That Type of Book.

It was nearly suppertime and Lucy was about to suggest perhaps another tray as talking and kissing someone very nice can make one rather hungry. Just as she began to speak, she saw a very sad expression come over Caspian's face.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"The mirror," he said in a low, serious voice, "It's _changing_."

She followed his gaze, and noted with dismay that he was correct. The lovely garden in the reflection was beginning to fade, brief flashes of her own room winking in and out of the image.

"Oh, dear, it's going away!" Lucy felt as if that were the very worst thing she had ever seen, and for a brief moment she had a strong desire to pick up something heavy and smash the mirror, which is a terrible thing to do to any mirror, and likely a disastrous thing to do to a magical one.

Caspian looked at the mirror, then at Lucy, then back to the mirror, torn between wanting to stay and doing what he knew he must. He drew Lucy close, pressed his lips to hers again, and kissed her deeply. The kiss was lovely and sad, and Lucy never wanted it to end.

But end it did, as all kisses must, and Caspian rose from the couch, and led her by the hand to the mirror, which was now flickering wildly back and forth between the two scenes.

"I am loathe to go, but I must, Lucy." He sounded very sad.

Near tears, Lucy merely nodded. It did not seem fair, she thought, to be granted something so unexpectedly lovely and have it taken away so quickly.

"Don't fret, dear heart," Caspian said, tipping her chin up so she was looking at him. "We will meet again, I am sure of it. This is the land of Narnia, Aslan's world, and in it, all good things are not only possible, but assured."

Lucy smiled a watery half smile, knowing he was right but not wanting to believe it. She kissed him one last time, then they embraced, and he stepped through the mirror. He turned and smiled, waving from the garden, and then with one last flash, he was gone. Once again, her room was reflected in the glass.

***

To his dismay, Danny found that his eyes were wet. It was such a lovely story, but he thought it was so sad. He could not believe that it would end this way. Knowing it was futile, he turned the page, in vain hope that there would be more. To his utter shock, there was:

***

Reader, take heart. Lucy and Caspian did in fact meet again, and while their story is not for me to tell, rest assured that all was well with them.

***

Slightly heartened, Danny closed the book. He did so, in the nick of time, it seemed, because as soon as he rose from the chair, he saw the ape leave, and then he heard Master Lucien's voice. He spent the rest of the day at his tasks and was so busy he did not think much again of the story, but when he went to bed that night he dreamed of Lucy and Caspian.

The next day when he reported to the Library to pick up his work apron from his cubby, there was a book in it. It was small, and bound in purple leather, and the gold script on the cover read, _The Marriage of King Caspian and Lucy the Valiant, and What Followed_.

Danny smiled, slipped it into his apron pocket, and went about his tasks, whistling a happy little tune.

 


End file.
